Do a Little Business
by Benevolent Goddess
Summary: Oneshot. Benny tries once more to persuade Roger into stopping the protest. Collins gets mad. Angel discusses Monopoly.


**Author's Notes/Disclaimer**: Some of you may recognize this title from the New York Theatre Workshop version of the play, which I highly recommend you listen to if given the chance. The song in reference, Do a Little Business, eventually turned into You'll See. But I like the old version better. This is where I got the inspiration for the story, but chose to stick it in the movie-verse because the timeline was more flexible. This is supposed to be going on right after Today 4 U. I don't own anything here, it all originated in the mind of Jonathan Larson, so move along. Nothing to see.

* * *

As the snow fell outside, a familiar melody echoed through the otherwise quiet loft. Roger was seated on the couch, plucking out a melancholy version of Musetta's Waltz on his guitar. Alone on Christmas. Mark had gone to help Maureen fix her sound equipment, and Angel and Collins had just departed for their Life Support meeting. Suddenly he hit a sour note, and began to mutter a string of curses. He'd have to tune the old guitar once more, the ancient monstrosity of an instrument that just refused to die. His fingers strummed, quickly locating the culprit of the bad note. It was his most rebellious string, the wily A. Roger plucked away diligently, just about to get the note he was after when the phone rang, ruining his concentration and causing him to snap the string.

"Fuck!" he yelled, throwing his pick down. Glancing quickly at his watch, he decided it was probably about time for his mother to be calling to berate him for not sending a Christmas card. He'd let the machine get it.

_Speeeaaak..._

"Mark? Roger? It's me, Benny. I hope our little discussion last night persuaded you two to change your minds, because I'm downstairs with Collins and his... lady-friend. Listen, come down here. I gotta talk to you guys. A'ight? Later."

Roger got up hesitantly. Collins probably told Benny that he was up here, anyway. He might as well go down and try to pacify him for a while longer. That is, until Mark came back. He was the more level-headed of the two when it came to dealing with situations like this. If left alone with Benny for too long, Roger was quite certain he'd end up decking his former friend in the face.

Walking downstairs, Roger immediately spotted the trio standing by Benny's black Range Rover. From the looks of it, Angel was trying to stop whatever argument he and Collins were getting into.

"Roger, so nice of you to join us," Benny announced as Roger moved closer.

"All dressed up to come and see me, Benny?" he asked sarcastically, referring to Benny's expensive looking suit.

"No," Benny said, twisting the wedding band on his finger. "I'm meeting up with Allison's father in a bit, if you must know. We're going to have a meeting about the groundbreaking for the studio, and work out a little deal with New York's finest regarding the protest. I assume you haven't talked Maureen out of it yet."

Roger merely shook his head.

"I figured as much. I don't know why you two decide to protect her after she dumped Mark for a woman. Wouldn't you rather get something out of this? A place to live?" Benny had always been persistent, and on top of that he was very used to getting what he wanted.

"I'm not going to budge," he growled.

"Nice Jeep," said Collins as he patted the hood of the large SUV, eager to change the subject. Angel giggled and hopped on it.

"Range Rover," Benny corrected. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't go scratching it up."

"Well then," Angel huffed, sliding off the hood indignantly. To her surprise, Collins put a protective arm around her waist. She smiled up at him and then shot Benny a look, suddenly more confident with the larger man holding her so close.

"So explain to me again," began Collins, "How Mark and Roger came to owe you the rent?"

"The investors advised me to come collect the rent from my tenants. I'm the landlord of this building now, you see," explained Benny with a cocky grin. "And the one across the street. And the one just next door. We plan on buying a few more, too."

"Just like Monopoly," Roger muttered dryly.

Angel perked at the mention of the board game. "I love Monopoly! I'll be the dog."

Benny couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. "Cute. Real nice match for you on the intellect level, Collins."

The insult seemed to go over Angel's head but Collins caught it, shooting daggers at Benny as he took a step toward him. "Don't start that shit with me today, Benjamin."

Benny shrugged nonchalantly, holding up a hand to stop his friend's advances. "It's cold out here, Tom, but let's not get irritable. I suggest we go upstairs, all of us. I'll only be needing a moment."

The group was won over by the prospect of some form of heat, however little, and began to head upstairs. Collins was the first to reach the loft, Angel in tow. Roger and Benny hung back a bit, eyeing each other with a dull vexation. It annoyed the hell out of Roger that he was being betrayed by someone he used to call a friend, and Benny felt that Roger was just being ignorant by not taking the simple offer given to him. Why pay the rent when you could stay for free? Maureen could be easily persuaded.

The two only broke eye contact as Collins cleared his throat. "Benny? You had something to say?"

"Collins," he said with the smallest hint of frustration. "Tell the budding songwriter over here what a wise investment it would be if he'd only comply. Cyber Arts is going to be big, I assure you, and if you could just convince Roger that stopping the protest would be bene–"

"I'll let Roger decide for himself," Collins said.

"He's just scared of stepping up to Muffy's daddy," Roger hissed.

"Her name is Alison," he spat back, jaw clenched tightly. That nickname got under Benny's skin more than anything.

While the heated discussion continued, Angel wandered over to the window. She sat herself down on the windowsill, tucking a leg underneath her as she watched the goings on below. Squinting at what she saw in the street, she turned back to the group and spoke.

"I just can't believe they're out on Christmas Day!"

"Who?" Collins asked.

"The tow trucks," Angel replied, swinging her leg with a mischievous smirk.

"The city really needs the reven – Oh shit! I'm double-parked!"

A hand shot up to Angel's mouth as she continued to watch the tow truck downstairs, although now she was grinning fiercely. "Oops, there goes the Jeep."

"It's a Range Rover!" Benny bellowed, making a mad dash for his coat. "Don't think our discussion is over! You've still got time to put a wrench in this thing! Remember what I told you last night, Roger, and be the smart one for once."

Feet pounding loudly, Benny bounded down the stairs as he shouted obscenities. The group left in the loft could only sit and stare at the display Angel would later describe as Angry Yuppie Syndrome. She watched below as the Range Rover got hooked onto the tow truck and Benny ran out of the building, flailing madly.

Getting up from her perch on the windowsill, she joined Collins and slipped under his arm. "That boy is in dire need of some Prozac."

Collins chuckled, nodding in agreement. He spied Roger hovering over his guitar, and figured if anybody could get him out of the house, it would be Angel. He gave her a pat on the backside and motioned toward Roger. She sprung like a cat on its prey.

"You sure you don't want to come with us, honey?"

"Yeah," Roger said, not looking up from his task. "I'm not very good company."

Collins opened his mouth to protest, to remind him that it was Christmas and he could forget his self-pity for one day, but Angel brought a finger to his lips to stop him.

"That's alright. I'm sure you've got plenty on your mind. You're always welcome to Life Support though, if you have a change of heart." She bit her lip before adding, "You have a very merry Christmas, Roger."

Collins wished him the same, and they left. Alone once again, but not so much with his guitar. His guitar with the broken string. He'd fix that in a minute, he decided, but chose to pour himself a cup of coffee. The snow was falling, and he sat by the window to admire it. Everyone had to go do a little business except him. Roger didn't understand the pity they felt for him, even if he was alone on Christmas. He was in the company of his faithful guitar with the untuned A string, and he was being entertained by the lazy dance of snowflakes. Not so alone after all.


End file.
